Requirement
by EmmaRiddleDaughteroftheDark
Summary: Requirement. She was required to treat him respectably – to like him even. She was required to listen to him, day in and day out. It was a requirement. It was NOT, under any circumstances, a choice. PPDM


Requirement. She was required to treat him respectably – to like him even. She was required to listen to him, day in and day out. It was a requirement. It was NOT, under any circumstances, a choice.

Their marriage has been practically all her parents discussed while she was growing up. The union of two, good, pureblood families... Nothing could have been more perfect. Or more wrong.

Draco was cocky, self-absorbed, whiney, and disrespectful. She had been raised to be the wife of this prat? But she doted on him, and followed his lead, and pretended to like him, as she had been taught. Maybe he thought she was annoying or far from the pretty two-year-old she had been when it was all arranged. But he seemed to accept that she would be around. He had been raised to be her husband.

Although she was forced to be by his side from the first day of school onwards, secretly, she began to enjoy it. She enjoyed the way people saw her when she was with him. Some were scared. Others jealous. They either wanted to be her or be with her. And, as a pug-faced fourteen-year-old, she didn't feel other people's jealousy like that often.

And later that year, in her fifth, Draco pulled her behind a coat of armor and hesitantly placed his mouth on hers. The kiss lasted only a moment before he pulled away and ran to join the Inquisitional Squad. A victory kiss – that's what that was.

But she felt the tingle on her lips for hours afterward.

She never thought she would fall for Draco, no matter how much her mother tried to assure her of the very thing. But, after so many years of self and family induced misery, that kiss sealed the deal. She could imagine her future with Draco. And, for once, she saw happiness.

* * *

That summer, Draco joined the Death Eaters – unofficially, of course. He snuck into her private rooms in the Parkinson Manor and told her in excited whispers. She smiled; all the while worrying her face would give away her fear.

"Pansy..." he stroked her cheek, bringing her attention back to him. "Why aren't you more excited about this?" His eyes traveled to his lower thigh where the Dark Mark was branded on his skin. "I'm the youngest Death Eater! And I won't get caught. They'll never look elsewhere from my forearm for the mark." Pansy couldn't let him continue to assure her.

"I'm just scared, Draco," she admitted. He froze; for a split second, she worried he would strike her for her lack of confidence. Then the careful façade he placed in front of her fell through.

"Me too..." he breathed, so quietly, she wasn't sure it actually happened. "What he's asking me to do is impossible." Trying to be as comforting as possible, Pansy took his hand in hers and lightly kissed his temple as she guided him to her mattress.

Suddenly, she realized how she was meant to assuage him. She was only sixteen-years-old, yet this boy was going to be her life-long mate. She loved him. And to placate him, she would finally give herself to him, soul, mind, and body...

Shifting herself slightly, Pansy brought Draco's eyes up to hers before she blinded him from anything but her kiss. His hands roamed from her neck, to her shoulders, to her chest. Then, he settled in under her shirt. She let him know with moans and whispers in his ear that she wanted to be with him. Tracing his fingers downward, he paused at her skirt until she nodded minutely.

Before they went any further, he stood and left the bed abruptly without explanation. Confused, Pansy sat upright. Did she do something wrong? Did she not do enough? But he came back, sitting on his knees like an excited, little boy.

An engagement ring lay in his outreached palm. Her breath caught in her throat. "Marry me, Pansy..." Suddenly, it was all too foolish.

"I've been betrothed to you since we were two, Draco..."

"No. YOU promise me you'll be mine. Not your family. Not my family. Not even our Lord. Will _you_ be mine?" The passion in his voice struck a chord, and she was speechless. He slipped the beautiful, extravagant ring on her third finger. It fit perfectly.

"Yes," she breathed, marveling at the lightness and beauty of the ring. "Today or ten years from now, I'll marry you." He smiled a triumphant grin before gently pushing her back down on the bed.

* * *

"I'm disgraced, Pansy," Draco moaned, burying his face in his hands. She stroked his back, knowing nothing that small could comfort him in the slightest. Voldemort was furious at his inability to kill the old man. With all the humility and shame surrounding him, it was July before Draco could even sneak back to her rooms at Parkinson Manor. "I don't know what to do..."

A knock on her door startled them both. Draco tensed but bade her quiet until they heard soft, retreating footsteps. Staring at the door for a moment, he scoffed. "I can't even get a minute of peace with my betrothed."

Pansy gave him a sympathetic smile, all the while watching the door. She knew why their house-elf was knocking. She knew why her mother had sent him to see if she were up to a planning session. She knew why she needed to plan, though Draco remained oblivious. He had no Earthly idea that while their marriage couldn't be until the summer following their graduation, a baby boy grew strong in her belly.

"What am I going to do, Pans?" he sighed into her hand as he kissed her palm. She was about to respond when his lips moved to her wrist. Pansy hid her puzzlement and let him follow whatever thought he was on. Then he stopped at the milk-white of her forearm.

Tracing his fingertips along the distant veins of blood, an idea brightened Draco's face. "I think I have a solution..." Shifting his body so he could have a better hold on her arm, he swiftly removed her engagement ring. Pansy let out a small breath before silencing herself. You don't question your husband.

"What is it, darling?" she heard herself ask politely.

Draco looked up at her through his eyelashes before smirking. "I think if I bring You-Know-Who another loyal follower, he may forgive me." His stare was so pointed that Pansy immediately caught his drift.

"Draco, no! I can't join the Death Eaters!" Anger darkened Draco's face like a storm cloud. "I can't!" He twisted and let his free hand fly, striking her squarely on the jaw. She started back, but he was still holding her arm tightly.

"How dare you talk back to me!" Pansy wanted to look away, but she was terrified. She'd never seen such displeasure directed at her. "You are my wife—we are betrothed and witnessed. That's wedded in everyone's eyes. You will honor me. You are REQUIRED to honor me." Squirming, she tried to free her arm, but he yanked her so she was locked in his stare. "And I'm demanding you follow your father TONIGHT and we'll present you to the Dark Lord."

Draco finally let her go and strode out her door without so much as a backward glance. Pansy caught her breath, rubbing her skin where his fingers had left an imprint.

She didn't have much time by herself though. Her mother, Rose Beaumont Parkinson, burst in the room less than two minutes after Draco's furious departure. "Pansy, get out of bed!" she commanded, drawing back the curtains with a flick of her wand. Pansy got to her feet uneasily, one hand covering her forearm as best she could. Her mother took her in, tutting slightly. "You'll never be ready to go to the Clarks' now. We gave word ages ago that we'd go to Amelia's baby shower." She briskly walked to Pansy's closet, flinging a dress at her.

Pansy rubbed her thumb over the soft material before placing it back on her bed. "I can't go to Amelia's shower, Mother." Rose turned to look at her daughter in shock.

"But Amelia is one of your best friends--" Rose tried to convince Pansy before she continued.

"I have to go with Father tonight." Pausing slightly to purse her lips, Rose began in a clear tone:

"Darling, you cannot go with you father tonight." She glanced behind her. "He is attending a _member's only_ meeting." That was their code. Even house-elves couldn't be trusted wholly with secrets. Pansy met her eyes but remained silent. "Dear God... you are to become a member..." For a moment, Rose forgot herself. She reached for her only child. Then training kicked in. She walked with her head high and expression blank to Pansy's closet, where she picked out a slinky, black dress to wear underneath her new robes.

"Thank you, Mother," Pansy whispered, fingering the dress. Rose nodded, taking in her daughter before she would become a Death Eater. But Pansy's training was not so complete. She fell to her bed. "This only adds to my problems," she griped, selfishly.

"What are you talking about?" Rose asked, scoffing. "This will solve everything. All the problems you had." Raising an eyebrow, Pansy looked at her as if to only ask what the hell she was talking about. Rose sighed. "Becoming a member will please the Dark Lord to both our families. Draco will be accepted again and he won't be so incredibly temperamental with you." Pansy averted her eyes at that, and she tried not to think how her mother knew. "Not to mention," Rose added, her gaze settling on her daughter's stomach, "becoming a member would take care of THAT lingering problem." Pansy snapped her head up to stare at her mother.

"How... how would it do that, Mother?"

"Do you know how you become a Death Eater, Pansy?" Rose's eyes burned gold as she spoke to her daughter. Pansy shook her head. It was privileged information known only to those who had gone through it. "You kneel before the Dark Lord and offer him your bare left arm." She grabbed her daughter's arm and flung her to the floor to illustrate her point. "Then, the Dark Lord will take his wand and use it to draw a line across your wrist. Your blood will spill all down the milk-white of your arm. When you are an inch from death, He will touch your forearm again with his wand. Your wound will heal and with your own blood, you will be tattooed with the Dark Mark." Pansy daren't breathe as she finished. "That's how he keeps you," Rose whispered. "He's got you by your life force." She glanced down. "And how can a baby grow in a place that's dying by degrees?"

Pansy hugged the floor with her body and caressed her pregnant stomach with one hand. "What will happen to him?" Rose pulled her up and dusted her off, ignoring the comment her daughter made that turned the problem from just a problem to a human child.

"He'll bleed out by daybreak," she said, matter-of-factly. "This wouldn't be the first baby lost by the ceremony. The Dark Lord won't mind more of your blood and he'll be gone – the PROBLEM will be gone forever."

Pansy let slip a single tear before raising her head. She painted on a face of tranquility and stood to dress for the meeting where her son would be lost. Rose watched the transformation of her daughter. "That's my girl."

* * *

"Parkinson, Pansy," the Dark Lord called out through the darkness to His members. Pansy felt her blood rush to her face as a hundred Death Eaters turned to face her. It was like a repetition of her sorting – and like then, she knew what the end result would be already. Draco beckoned to her with a flick of his head and she started toward Him. He couldn't escort her to the Dark Lord's side – Pansy had to make that journey alone.

With careful steps, she maneuvered her way through the garden of weeds and Death Eaters and past Draco's expectant countenance. "Well, child," the Dark Lord smirked as she kneeled in the dirt before Him, "how fast you've grown." She ignored the chuckles from behind her, focusing on her hurried breathing. Never before had she been so close to Him.

A skeletal finger with gray, stretched tight skin emerged from His robe. In a moment of fear, Pansy nearly forgot what to do. Hurriedly, she slid her robe sleeve up and offered Him her bare left arm. That finger caressed the skin on her forearm before tracing its way to her blue vein.

Before He made another move, He forced her to look into His eyes. "Do you swear to fulfill all duties and requirements specified to you by me or any of my followers?" Pansy turned her head slightly to watch Draco's blank expression.

"I do." With a smile, the Dark Lord drew across her wrist, spilling her blood to a pool on the ground. Fighting to keep from crying out, Pansy watched the sickly-sweet liquid gush out of her as her stomach started to turn violently. With only the wand light of the Death Eaters, her ever-falling blood looked like the shadow of her protruding engagement ring. Her eyes jolted to Draco's in horror before she dutifully turned her face back to the Dark Lord.

_It was nothing_, she told herself as she felt her son lose his grip on her and life. It was all nothing. It was just her requirement.

* * *

Author's note: When I'm at a loss for what to write about, I make one of my friends give me a word. And I create a story about that word, beginning and ending with that word. I believe I've done it with six or so now, only about three being on FanFiction. I also try to go away from my normal characters. Normally, I wouldn't go near Pansy Parkinson. But I feel this fic gives a different side to her -- that shows why she is the way she is. Please review if you read.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of JK Rowling's characters. I'm in no way profitting from this. I did, however, create the way that Death Eaters are brought into service to The Dark Lord.


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